


you dont believe in love at first sight.

by stormpilots



Category: Guardians of the Whills - Fandom, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Blind Character, Cuddling & Snuggling, Everyone Is Alive, Fluff, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Nobody is Dead, POV Chirrut Îmwe, Pre-Canon, space dads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 02:21:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12002922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormpilots/pseuds/stormpilots





	you dont believe in love at first sight.

His skin is warm against yours, and his arms are strong around your waist, a source of great comfort. You never have had any sort of sight, and you've learned to rely heavily on sound and sensation. His heart is beating steadily, and you can hear it from where your head rests on his chest. He hasn't spoken in what could just as easily have been hours as it could have been seconds, and neither have you. You're more than happy to simply lay in his arms, appreciating the closeness between you.

You haven't been with Baze Malbus for very long -- a few months at most. In fact, the first time he kissed you, you were hardly more than strangers. But there was always a spark between you, it was something you felt the moment you met him. The relationship that developed did so quickly, quickly enough that Baze was concerned you were moving too fast. He still expresses that same concern now and again, but you know he doesn't truly feel either of you have taken things too quickly. You have faith that this relationship of yours is going to last until the two of you are old and grey, and then some, and he has that same faith.

You shift slightly in his arms, not earning more than a soft grunt from Baze. You say nothing, simply tracing small, spiralling patterns on the skin of his chest with the tips of his fingers. You know he likes it when you do that. You're sure he's smiling -- but you can't see that, couldn't even if you were to lift your head. You never minded your lack of sight much, it was always little more than a minor inconvenience while you were growing up. However, there have been times when you've found yourself wishing you could see. You'd like to see his face, to see what it looks like when he smiles. You're sure there's no sight more beautiful in all of existence -- regardless of how much he insists that you're more beautiful than anything he's ever laid eyes on.

Smiling to yourself, you nudge his bare leg with your own, and you can practically feel him rolling his eyes as he nudges you back. More often than not, any time you share a bed with him, you end up kicking each other under the sheets, like children. Then again, he often tells you that you act like a child, so maybe it fits.

He tangles his legs with yours, his grip on your waist tightening minutely. You smile to yourself, a small smile, reaching up to rest your hand on his cheek (you miss at first, getting the pillow and his hair, but you'll never admit to that if anyone asks), and brush your thumb slowly along his cheekbone. You know every inch of his body by touch, since you can't see, and he's never been bothered by your wandering hands before. You know how it feels when he smiles, the way the skin of his face shifts beneath your touch. You like to think you know him better than he knows himself. He often says he thinks you might.

He takes your hand in one of his, bringing it to his lips and pressing soft kisses to the tips of your fingers. His lips are warm, slightly chapped, and familiar beneath your fingertips. His hand holding yours is warmer still, the skin of his palm rough and calloused. His hands are much larger than yours, you've noticed -- but he's bigger than you in every sense of the word, the only reason you don't crane your neck when you talk to him is that you still couldn't see him even if you did.

"I love you," he murmurs, and you can feel the vibrations in his chest as he speaks. He releases your hand, in favour of brushing your lips with the tips of his own fingers. You nip playfully at them, earning a soft laugh.

"I love you, too," you answer. You never were one for affection before you met Baze, but people are far more subject to change than you once believed. There's just something about him, something you can't quite put your finger on. Sometimes he says he thinks it was love at first sight. You don't believe in love at first sight.

Then again, you can't see.


End file.
